Visiting Hour
by kenandwormchanchicka
Summary: This one is hard to explain because it was inspired by a sociopath...An old "friend" visits a Digidestined and all heck breaks loose. (How could you not like this story - Ken runs away from home wearing only his boxers^^;) Somewhat graphic death ahead (he


Disclaimer- read it on the front page  
A/N- just a little something I thought of while reading a Stephen King book. Trying to get by without using names is difficult, but hopefully you can follow. Take this story as you like because there is a character death in here. You'll find that I like to do that a lot. As long as I'm not the one reading it, it's okay. I was a little angry when I wrote it and I'm still angry because I was eating rice and got two pieces stuck in my throat. It's been hours and they're still in there. Does anyone have any suggestions?  
PS - try to figure out who it is I'm talking about before I tell you. Tell me if it's hard!  
  
  
Visiting Hour  
  
  
  
  
He had gone to the morgue to watch the dead people. It was supposed to make him feel better, less frustrated, but it did nothing to him. Unlike the Digimon, the bodies weren't dying; they were already dead. Well, that was *boring *.  
  
Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to kill another human being. It would be better than killing a Digimon, he decided, because dead humans leave behind bodies to play with. There were so many possibilities too in this "Real World" with its "technology" and "real people".  
  
He decided to leave just then, slipping by in front of the morgue-keeper (he supposed that's what the man would be called) completely unseen. Of course the man wouldn't see him, he was too perfect to be seen and certainly more real than that old man was.  
  
The street was nearly deserted and he was disappointed. How was a guy supposed to catch any prey? He moved farther into the city and crossed the street on his left. The road was littered with speeding cars but none of them caught him as he slipped past. Of course not, they weren't real like he was.  
  
When he got to the other side, he finally saw some prey. It was a cat, licking itself in its delicate, feline way. The cat smelled him before it saw him and stopped licking to arch its back and hiss at him. He chased it suddenly - so suddenly that the cat forgot the street and reared into the traffic. The hood of a car played with its tiny, frail body for a moment before depositing it back on the sidewalk.   
  
He watched the cat twitch, utterly fascinated by its pain. 'Now this is more like it!' he shrieked aloud, knowing full well that no one could hear him. He crouched beside the dying cat, first poking it and then stroking it gently with a gloved hand. Then, to his own amazement, he began to giggle. The sight of the cat dying indignantly stuck his funny bone somehow. Of course, his giggle would turn out to be a choked cackle, something that would most certainly sound like an evil clown choking on a chicken bone.  
  
A man appeared behind him, adorned in an apron and carrying a broom. He had sneaked out from the butcher shop behind him and was now reaching through the middle of his body to touch the struggling cat. The butcher made him furious - he hated to be touched. Really there was no pain; he only felt a slightly uncomfortable twinge in his intestines. Apparently the cat belonged to this man and he was about to ruin his fun by taking the cat into his arms. That was not going to happen.  
  
Instead of just pushing the emotional man into the rushing traffic (a move which he would regret momentarily), he picked up the abandoned broom and beat the man mercilessly on the head with it. The man stood shakily and attempted to run away, shrieking when he realized that there was nothing behind the wrath of the broom. Contrary to what he had hoped, the man simply darted down the sidewalk, as far as he could get from the levitating broom.  
  
He finished watching the cat die and then moved on to create more amusement for himself. The unreal were so humorous! Possibilities ravaged in his mind as he continued on his way.  
  
Down the street he stopped suddenly and turned his nose up to the apartment. He could sense someone "real" in there, almost as real as he was. There was only one person in this earth that it could possibly be. He smiled a grin that stretched unnaturally from ear to ear. He could hardly contain his excitement; he was about to meet with an old friend.   
  
He adjusted his footing and began to scale the building at an alarming rate. Driven by his unrelenting desire to see the only "real" boy he had ever known he made remarkable time. This person was special because he had once been a part of his life - a part of him. That was what made him blessed enough to be real.  
  
He clambered onto the balcony easily enough, but soon forgot his dexterity when he spotted the boy he was looking for. The boy was sleeping peacefully in his bed, but not for long. His rotting, thick fingers fumbled uselessly at the lock. Cursing silently, as he didn't want to awaken the sleeping boy, he tried again, forcing himself to calm down.  
  
Finally the lock gave to his steady pressure and he slipped inside the warm room. He hadn't even realized that he was cold until he felt the room's temperature. The only thing that mattered to him was the figure of a tiny boy who was sleeping on his stomach meters away. 'You shouldn't sleep on your stomach, you could get nightmares little one,' he cooed quietly. He didn't want to wake the child just yet; he wanted to watch him sleep. He wanted to drink in the young boy's beauty as thirstily as a starving vampire.   
  
Knowing that the boy was, like himself, a light sleeper, he moved on his toes until he got to the bed. He removed the parts of his clothes that would make noise if he joined the boy. Off went his shoes, which were stuck on his swelling feet, then his cape, which would most likely rustle too noisily. He climbed the ladder as stealthily as he had the building and when he got to the top he spotted interference. The bug was sleeping next to his beauty and that made him furious. As he had done many times before, he grabbed the bug's pinchers so that he wouldn't scream and chucked him over the balcony. He wiped his hands clean of green saliva and locked the sliding door on his way back in. 'That should do the trick,' he thought.   
  
He went back to the sleeping boy and crawled into his bed. He sat with his back to the wall, watching. 'He's so delicate,' he pondered, 'n'er an orchid hath smelled so sweet.' He giggled. The boy's face twitched a little in his deep sleep, then fell back into its serene expression. Just then he thought, 'If you wake up, I'll have to kill you. How easy it would be to snap the fragile bones in your pale little neck.' But, he realized he would never kill one of his own.   
  
Carefully, as not to shift the mattress with his weight, he slipped under the cover so that he and the boy were face to face. 'I used to look like this,' he thought for a second, depressed. The numb feeling returned to fill the void and he was fine again. He traced the boy's neck and jaw with the back of his hand, wincing when the boy croaked, "Wormmon?" in his sleep. That awful bug. He should have killed it years ago when he had the chance. Now that he was dead the boy would be a little bit sad, but he was sure that he could recover. The boy killed *him *, didn't he?  
  
His hand traced over a faint scar on the boy's cheek. The other children hadn't seen it because the boy wouldn't let any of them get that close just yet. He remembered that the scar was from that damned Takaishi boy and his miserable right hook. He giggled again. Now he finally had a chance to exact revenge - after he took over the boy's body of course.  
  
Now it was time to wake the boy up. He trailed his bloody, rotting tongue over the boy's lips (A/N in a COMPLETELY NON-SEXUAL WAY!^^; Is that even possible? What the hell am I trying to imply here?) and through them, getting the reaction that he wanted. Before the boy could scream, he pointed to the spot where the worm had been and watched happily as the boy stopped struggling.  
  
"I thought I killed you!" the boy wailed, near tears.  
  
'And I you.'  
  
"What did you do to Wormmon? You better not have hurt him!"  
  
Trying not to giggle, he smiled. 'Wormmon is in my hiding place. He's fine.'  
  
"What the hell do you want from me that you don't already have?" the boy sniffed.  
  
'As you can see, I'm not in good shape. I want your body. Every last inch of it.'  
  
The boy stiffened. "I'm not going through this again."  
  
'You'll have to if you want your pathetic worm to live.'  
  
"You're supposed to be dead!" the boy nearly screamed, causing him to clamp a hand over the boy's mouth. He was sitting on the boy in such a manner that he couldn't move his legs. He had one hand on his left arm, the other on his mouth.  
  
'What happened to you, Ken? You used to be so good at making people disappear!' he cackled wildly. Ken was outraged. His free arm connected with a flabby, rotted cheek, sending bloated chunks of skin flying. He was momentarily freed and flung his body down to the soft carpet below. "Shut the fuck up about my brother!" Ken screamed before he ran out the door and out of the apartment. He took the stairs the whole way down. He knew that the Kaiser wouldn't run after him fast enough because his body was half decomposed.   
  
When he got to the bottom, he spotted Wormmon, well, *worming *his way up the side of the building. He had gotten a hold of the building as he fell and didn't die. Wormmon was glad to see Ken and leapt into arms. Ken took off running - wearing only boxer shorts because the day had been warm and he would be overheated if he slept in pajamas - all the way to the subway. Remembering that he had no change (his boxer shorts didn't come equipped with pockets) he had to dance a little bit for an old lady in order to get some money. Originally she had wanted Wormmon, but they made an agreement. And she felt sorry for the poor, cold boy in his boxers.   
  
Ken boarded the train and was awarded with several looks. He didn't care because he needed to get the hell away from Tamachi. A man, a slightly perverted man, sat down beside him and offered him a coat. Ken got scared because for a moment his face looked like it belonged to that dreadful Kaiser. As a result he screamed, startling the cowardly, perverted man. He thought the boy knew his intentions, so he left the coat behind and ran to the farthest end of the train.   
  
Ken took the coat because Wormmon was cold and it was nice and long, then waited silently for his stop. He started to cry, and a woman sitting across from him recognized him as that beautiful little Ichijouji boy. As she moved to sit beside him, she thought, ' what evil parents this poor child must have!' She rubbed his shoulder and he automatically stopped crying.   
  
"Don't worry Ken, I'll take you to the police station," she told him, still rubbing his shoulder.  
  
Ken sniffed, "No, you don't understand… there's something I have to do first." 'I have to warn the others!'  
  
When the train stopped at his destination he bolted outside, not even hearing the lady yell his name. He found money in the pocket of the coat he had been given and it was just enough to buy a bus ticket. The bottoms of his feet felt like they would fall off because it was cold and there were rocks and puddles on the ground. When he boarded the bus he was nearly booted for his appearance; that is until the driver recognized him as the genius Ken Ichijouji. The first thought that approached his mind was that the boy was running away from home again. Then he noticed that the boy was wearing only a coat and boxers and thought about calling the police because he thought that the boy had been raped.   
  
At Ken's stop the bus driver, not knowing what exactly to do in a situation like this, stopped the bus but didn't open the door until he had a hold of Ken's arm. "Are you all right boy?" he asked. Ken was close enough to notice that his cheeks jiggled when he talked.  
  
"I'm fine; someone just played a joke on me, that's all."  
  
"Don't you live in Tamachi?"  
  
"I was closer to my aunt's house." He pointed to Daisuke's apartment building.  
  
The driver shrugged off his embarrassment. "Suit yourself," he said.  
  
Ken smiled lightly. "Thanks for caring."  
  
He dashed quickly out of the bus and into the apartment building. Immediately he felt a sense of comfort. The building was warm and carpeted and the ground soothed his aching feet. Somehow Daisuke had to fix this mess; Daisuke was born to fix messes. He ran up the stairs again, afraid to take the elevator in fear that the Kaiser could be waiting in there. Then he would be trapped and the Kaiser would take over his body again. Vaguely he remembered when the Kaiser had first taken him over. There had been incomprehensible pain, a pain so vicious that unlike other types of pain, Ken did not soon forget it. At least, in the event that the Kaiser caught up to him, Ken would have a witness: Daisuke.   
  
He pounded on the door (Daisuke's apartment, he remembered, was two doors down and to the right of the staircase) willing someone to answer. No one was home. Ken knelt and pawed under the door, feeling for a key. At least while he was here he could get some clothes and call the other Digidestined.  
  
He fumbled to place the key in the lock, his hands shaking from the cold and the fear. Finally he and Wormmon made their way inside and he unconsciously placed his feet in the slippers located at the door. First he made his made his way to the kitchen to use the phone. When he took the phone off of its cradle and stared at the little buttons with the numbers printed on them, he realized that the only Digitestined phone number he knew was Daisuke's. Near tears, Wormmon and he searched for a phonebook. Wormmon found it in a cupboard under the phone in the living room and proceeded to search for the numbers. Ken meanwhile sat on the couch and tried to calm himself down. Wormmon told him to go borrow Daisuke's clothes while he made the call. Hastily Ken agreed to what the little Digimon told him, assuring himself that Wormmon was not going to die if he went to another room.  
  
Daisuke's room was a filthy mess. When Ken had slept over, the room had been immaculate. He realized that Daisuke must have cleaned it up nicely just for him. The thought made him blush. No one besides his mother had ever done anything nice like that for him.   
  
Ken suddenly remembered that Daisuke's Digimon partner may be sleeping somewhere in the mess; that was if Daisuke hadn't taken him with him. "Chibimon!" he called in a half-whisper, his voice quavering with emotion. "Are you here? Please help me if you are…"  
  
A muffled sound escaped from a large mound of clothing and Ken remembered that that's where Daisuke's bed used to be. He trotted over to the bed, aware that his feet were beginning to sting unpleasantly. Chibimon's head poked out of the sleeve of one of Daisuke's shirts and Ken picked him up shirt and all. The blue Digimon tried to comfort Ken by stroking his chest with a furry little paw. He could hear Ken's heart racing as he moved to sit on his legs on the floor. The beating was so loud that Chibimon could feel a pulse by pressing a paw against Ken's tummy.   
  
"Daisuke!" he screamed suddenly, "Emergency!"  
  
He saw a hand emerge from under a blanket of clothing and wave him off. "Daisuke…" Ken whispered, his voice stale and dry. "I need your help, please help me." He grabbed a hold of Daisuke's large hand and pulled until he could see his friend's head.   
  
"You're so cold," Daisuke murmured, finally sitting up rubbing his eyes. When he looked at Ken he went into shock - the boy was half-naked and shaking, his lips blue from the weather. Ken tried to explain to him why he was crying and why he wasn't wearing any clothes, but he couldn't. Daisuke sheepishly offered him a wrinkled long-sleeve shirt and blue pants that he had been sleeping on and Ken took them gratefully. As Ken dressed (Daisuke insisted that he leave the room, even though Ken was wearing the boxers), Daisuke made the only thing he knew how to make - tea.   
  
Wormmon was surprised to see Daisuke because he had thought the house was empty. He had found that alphabetically Iori was the first Digidestined. Ignoring Daisuke's blood curdling screams from inside the kitchen, Wormmon dialed the number and, with some difficulty, was able to contact the Hida residence. Iori agreed to phone the rest of the Digidestined for a 2:00am meeting at Daisuke's house.   
  
The large group of children gathered in the Motomiya living room, angry at first from being ripped from their dreams, but then sullen as they watched the shivering Ichijouji tell the horrifying story. He had begun to remember parts of his past and had thrown them in so that his friends could understand. Of course, he left out the part about the tonguing that he had told Daisuke minutes before. Daisuke said nothing about it.  
  
It was decided quickly that Ken was to be protected from this new evil force. First, they set up camp in the living room by pushing some furniture into the kitchen so that it would leave them more room. Daisuke, Tai and Matt started off the all-night shift. Ken insisted that three people be awake at all times because the Kaiser had a way of getting what he wanted. In his experience, Ken had only seen him take out two people at a time and with a third person awake, they could scream and awaken the others.  
  
Although the others insisted Ken should rest, Ken could not. He had a very comfortable spot on the middle of the floor, but he was too tense to sleep. He may have drifted off once or twice, but he remained awake the majority of the night.   
  
Nothing happened. In the morning, the children who knew how to cook set to work in the kitchen, while the rest of them dragged the furniture back the way it had been. Ken was beginning to feel guilty for dragging everybody over and for taking over Daisuke's house. Miyako, Sora and he were crammed onto the loveseat. He was settled in-between them and each of the girls held his hand in their protective grasps.   
  
Jyou turned on the television to the news channel. Sora and Miyako protested violently, throwing pillows at Jyou, but he simply said that he wanted to know what the weather was like outside. They decided to let him have it for a while.   
  
'Our top story today: In Tamachi, the parents of the famous Ken Ichijouji and his famous deceased brother Osamu Ichijouji were found brutally murdered in their beds. It is suspected that their son had something to do with it because they found a note in Mrs. Ichijouji's hand that read, 'Without you I cannot rule the world.' It was signed the Kaiser. Police have reason to believe…"  
  
Ken's eyes swallowed up his face. He staggered toward the television and poked it, waiting for someone to tell him that it was all just a really big joke. But it made sense. The Kaiser loved to punish people and he had punished Ken for running away by taking his parents. That would explain why he didn't chase after him. He moaned and tugged his hair. How could he have been so selfish?  
  
He knew only one thing for sure; that he needed to pay for his selfishness by protecting his friends. He suddenly realized that they were powerless and that he had really gathered them so that he could protect them from the Kaiser. Ken also knew one more important thing: the Kaiser couldn't live without him. As the newscaster changed topics to a plane crash that killed thirty people, Ken took his life by jumping off of the Motomiya's balcony.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
The Digidestined were stunned. They couldn't figure out what was so devastating about the weather forecast. The Kaiser was even more stunned. He hadn't expected this reaction from someone real. Visiting hour was over. He sat in Ken's bed, withering into a puddle of lifeless goo.   
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
